Is it Leslie?
by Sharkey52
Summary: Spin-off one-shot of Protector of Silence. Just a bit of pointless character development featuring some familiar OCs. - In which Hwita gets as giddy as a drunk person, Owari stresses about imbalances, Reo sulks and Azrael drinks a latte.


**Is it Leslie?**

In an ordinary coffee shop on an ordinary road, on an ordinary day of an ordinary year, four very ordinary people walked into the ordinary coffee shop, ordered some ordinary coffee and settled down at an ordinary table for an ordinary conversation.

"YOU BLEW UP JAPAN?!"

Good, you've just read an extract from someone's obituary - minus the destruction of Japan bit - probably belonging to a certain messenger of Arceus who decided his companions just weren't worth living for anymore. But as he's not dead yet, here's what that paragraph really says:

In a fairly ordinary coffee shop (give it another 20 years or so and it'll be less ordinary) called The Elephant House on George IV Bridge (the narrator presumes the word 'street' is supposed to be on the end of that because from satellite images she can't see a bridge or anyone called George), on a reasonably ordinary Saturday (there were lots of students in the cafe) of a more-or-less ordinary year (1989), four very (very, very, very, very, very, _very_) _un_-ordinary people walked into the fairly ordinary coffee shop, ordered a selection of coffees that weren't in existence in the universe let alone this coffee shop yet (so they all rather relucantly settled for regular lattes) and settled down at a metal table only ever designed for two (with the youngest sitting on a stack of books they had borrowed from the nice Scottish man at the till) for an ordinary conversation that involved the destruction of a certain economic superpower.

Oy vey.

"I don't think anyone's gonna notice" Azrael pointed out whilst Reo babbled excuses, Owari fumed and Hwita drank her latte. "All the humans had evacuated Earth by then - no one's gonna miss it."

Owari sighed and facepalmed. "Seriously guys! I expect this sort of fighting from Dialga and Palkia - not their messengers! The amount of imbalances I'm gonna have to fix!" Everyone rolled their eyes. "This isn't just going on under the radar you know - Arceus _will_ notice. It's almost as bad as the time you kidnapped that Earhart woman."

"Hey, we saved her didn't we" Hwita pointed out.

"I think it falls under the laws of kidnapping actually" Azrael voiced his opinion, setting his latte down on the metal table that rocked on its uneven legs a bit as he did so. "You _did_ leave her there for an extended period of time. And you have no idea how much straightening with the FBI and CIA _that_ took."

An awkward silence settled over the quartet, filled only with the sound of spoons hitting glass and sipping. It went on for so long Azrael was about to stand up and announce he was leaving when:

"So, what's your real name?"

"Huh?" Everyone looked up at Hwita, who was thoughtfully stirring her latte still and looking at their second youngest member - at least in physical appearance. One could argue Owari was older than all of them combined.

"Well I hardly imagine your parents named you Owari" she pointed out.

Owari returned to the book he'd opened during the awkward silence. "Hajime was a name."

Hwita though wasn't listening. "What was it then? Reginald? Phillip? Morris? Archibald? Leslie? ...yeah, it was Leslie wasn't it?"

"Please Hwita, I really don't think _you_ should be talking" Owari tried to blow it off, but Hwita could proudly see his patience was wearing. "I mean, what was your real name?"

Hwita didn't seem fazed at all though. Instead she tossed a lock of her silver hair over her shoulder and stated: "Ximone."

Reo wrinkled his nose. "Wah?"

"Ximone" Hwita repeated "It's the Mexican form of Simone."

"And thank you for that information Hwita - I was riveted to know" Azrael informed her in monotone.

Hwita folded her arms and leant back in her chair. "Oh _really_? So, what's your real name then, cos I highly doubt your mother sat down and decided to call her precious child 'Azrael'."

"No, but I'm surprised she didn't" Azrael sighed, stirring his coffee. He then muttered something illegible.

"Sorry, what was that?" Hwita asked, leaning forward a bit. Azrael muttered again.

Reo frowned. "It was either 'Alexei' or 'Arrivederci'." Azrael muttered again. "Wait no, that time it sounded like Atticus."

"Nah, that's just his favourite book character" Hwita shook her head "Besides Lord Voldemort and Mr Darcy of course."

Azrael narrowed his eyes at the only female of their group as Reo started laughing in his obnoxious six-year-old giggle again. "Hwita, I don't know what you're—"

"And we all know your favourite video game character is Roxas" Hwita added on "Lots of depressing, moody angst for your liking, Oh Grim Reaper."

"Alright, very funny" Azrael rolled his eyes as Reo almost fell out of his chair laughing. "_Very_ funny."

"So, is your name Alexei or Atticus?" Reo managed to ask after he had composed himself and scrambled back into his chair.

"I'll let you figure that one, scout" Azrael stated.

The smile flew away from Reo's face. "Hey! How'd you guess my name so fast?!"

Azrael frowned. "Your real name is Scout?"

"So what if it is?" Reo folded his arms, slumping his chair.

"You do realise that's a girl's name, right?" Hwita raised an eyebrow.

Reo tried to argue back, but found he couldn't and just slumped down even further as it was the older kids' turn to start laughing. "It was before the book..."

"And which brings us back to O-O-Owa-ri" Hwita grinned, singing her sentence like the last line of 'DoReMi.' Owari, who hadn't spoke since Hwita announced her name, just ignored her.

"Oh come on Owari, we've all announced them" Azrael encouraged him "Just give us a hint. It can't be that bad." Still, Owari blatantly ignored them in favour of his _truly riveting!_ book.

"Well, it could be" Hwita pointed out "It could be Horatio. Or Romeo. Or Tim. Or...or..."

"Or Erasmus" Azrael added. Hwita shuddered.

"Or Leslie" she suggested again "I'm still putting my money on Leslie."

"Will you shut it!" Owari scowled over the top of his book.

For a few seconds there was silence, before Hwita suddenly sat up straight and gasped: "Oh my god!"

"'Oh my god', what?" Azrael asked, not curious so much as exasperated and annoyed.

"It really is Leslie, isn't it?!" Hwita was now grinning, her blue eyes lit up with joy and her face twisted into a mischievous smirk.

Owari raised an eyebrow. "'scue me?"

"Your name really is Leslie!" Hwita looked as giddy as a drunk person. "Ooh, just wait until I tell Hajime-Kellyn-whatisname!"

"It is not!" Owari didn't even give her a second to laugh before he shot back his reply, almost slamming his latte down on the table before remembering it would probably smash the glass.

Azrael's red eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Well I never..."

"You never what?" Reo frowned. He'd tuned out after they'd teased him about his own name and he had only just snapped back to the present.

"He looks exactly the same at you when he lies" Azrael clarified, but no one could tell who he was referring to when he said 'you'. Azrael was just rather ambiguous like that - best way to stay alive.

"I am not lying!" Owari snapped back, but it was pretty much drowned out by Hwita's laughing cheers of:

"Leslie! Leslie! Leslie!"

This was all backed up by Reo falling off his book-stacked seat with laughter, Azrael's dumbfounded look and a lot of curious looks from other, ordinary customers.

Owari slumped in his seat, trying to look as small as possible. "Just kill me now."

And that, dear readers, is the story of a fairly ordinary coffee shop called The Elephant House on George IV Bridge Street, on a reasonably ordinary Saturday of a more-or-less ordinary year, when four very, very, very, very, very, very, _very_ _un_-ordinary people walked into the fairly ordinary coffee shop, ordered a selection of coffees that weren't in existence in the universe let alone this coffee shop yet and settled down at a metal table only ever designed for two with the youngest sitting on a stack of books they had borrowed from the nice Scottish man at the till, for an ordinary conversation that involved the destruction of a certain economic superpower.

Oy vey indeed.


End file.
